


I'll show you the stars

by Breakingthestandards



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: But I try to make the story a serious one, F/M, Female Reader, Memory Loss, Multi, Reader Insert, Reader has a force sensitive womb, Tags to come as you request, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-06-07 19:36:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6821362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Breakingthestandards/pseuds/Breakingthestandards
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You had a life before being caught - friends, family, foes. But when you wake up as a prisoner of the First Order things are about to change for the worst.</p><p>You will not be reduced to breeding stock.</p><p>==</p><p>Usually I like to write a few chapters in advance before posting them but my urgent question to the readers is... what would you love to see?<br/>-Should there be Kylo x Hux in this story as well?<br/>-Story rating will go up after chapter 4, Story will be going dark<br/>-Pairings planned: Reader x Kylo/ x Hux. Matt will appear later on as well.<br/>I want to make it a bit interactive so if you read and like, send in suggestions of what you would or wouldn't do. Thank you <3<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Intro

You wake up to the sound of engines humming and feel the need to rub your eyes. You manage to do so, but as you lift your hands you notice a faint pressure on your wrists, one you're not familiar with, and once your eyes are open you stare down at the shackles around your wrists.

“So you are awake.” It is not a question but rather a monotonous mechanical voice that reaches your ears and when you turn your head you recognise a Stormtrooper. Not what you had expected.

The Stormtrooper is seated opposite of you –how can he even sit in a hard suit like that? You try to sit up to meet him and although you notice you can sit, you hear the rattling of chains and feel a resistance when you move your arms. The shackles are giving you limited movement and you realise they’re attached to the cold metal slap on which you have awoken. You’re in a white prison cell, they have you chained with limited room for movement and it’s darn cold in here.

You shiver but decide the problem of the temperature is the smallest thing on your mind – why are you wearing just a silly white dress anyway?

A sudden anger creeps up inside of you at the realisation that you are a prisoner of some kind and you angrily jerk your head to the Stormtrooper, bearing your teeth at him to show that you’re not easily defeated. “Why am I kept here? And who are you?”

The Stormtrooper is silent in front of you, his breathing the only thing you hear faintly through his mask. You decide to waste no time and fiddle with your bonds. The shackles round your wrist seem to be of some kind of metal, shiny and silvery to the eye, but hopeless to peel off. They’re not uncomfortably tight, but they are limiting your motions. You kick your feet next, the same cold metal is clasped around your ankles and is chafing against your socks. So far your struggling doesn’t seem to get you anywhere.

Finally the Stormtrooper rises and you have to blow a strand of stray hairs out of your face when you sweep your head to look at him. You know you’re scowling.

“Do you remember who brought you here?”

The question surprises you but you’re determined not to let it show for too long. To keep up the pretence you place your hands on your hips and continue to scowl at the white-suit. “I don’t remember anything about coming here.”

Once again the trooper is silent and you frown. You do remember a lot of things. You remember where you went to school, the courses you hated and the ones you liked. You remember your home, your aunt, your best friend, the family friends that always came round to visit you. You remember a lot, but not how you ended up in a white enclosed space that made you feel like you could be suffering from claustrophobia.

The Stormtrooper’s voice brought you out of your memories. “Does your head hurt?”

What kind of a question was that for pity’s sake? You wanted to cry out at the ridiculousness of the situation. “No.” And as you said it you folded your arms in front of your chest. Your head doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t feel like someone punched you or pummelled upon you.

“Interesting.” The trooper used his fist to slam on a button next to a door you hadn’t noticed before. It slid open and as he walked through it you made a valiant attempt to get up. But the restraints didn’t let you do more than sit up on the slab and as the door closed you growled in frustration.

What was this?

You aren’t crazy, you know this. You are fairly certain of it too. Yep. Everything is in order. You remember enough to know this.

The ceiling takes your interest as you lie down again. It’s white, but there’s little else to stare at. Your fingers fumble at the edge of your dress, pulling it downwards towards your knees so you’re at least decent. In your head you started to count. How long would it take for the man to come back?

When the door eventually slides open you decide to act boldly and remain lying on the slab. The only thing you do is lazily open an eye to peer at whoever enters the room while you feign disinterest.

The figure now standing in your room is dressed in a costume similar to the man in white who had stood there before, but the shiny material almost seemed to be black. The door slides close behind your new visitor while you fight the feeling of nausea that is rising within you.

“What is your name?” You are surprised the figure asks you this.

But you are even more surprised when the thoughts in your head start racing.

“Why do you wish to know?” You reply instead while panic is festering in your mind. You don’t know your own name? What the hell is this?

“State your name.” The black trooper asks again and you scoff.

“Why, we haven’t been introduced to each other yet. Since you came in here I think it’d only be fair if you gave your name first.”

The dark trooper knows what you’re doing. You can feel it. And your thoughts are confirmed when the distorted voice sounds again.

“I’m Captain Phasma. You are our prisoner.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Really? I didn’t know that.” You don’t mind that the Captain might have easily heard the sarcasm in your voice. In one swift movement you sit up on the slab again and run a hand through your hair. Wait. Why is it loose? You hardly ever wear it loose. It bothers you when it is and you’d grown accustomed to put a red ribbon or bow in it to tie it all together. Why isn’t it there? Where is it?

The Captain had seen the panic in your eyes and no matter how brave you tried to act you were fooling no one.

“It seems the trooper was right.” Phasma says. “You suffer from memory loss. Interesting. The puny girl doesn’t even know her own name or how she got here. This will bring an interesting turn to the planned interrogation.”

Interrogation? Your eyes widen and you feel your heartbeat speed up. “What is going on here.” You manage to breathe out, desperate to get some replies. “Why am I here? Why am I chained?”

“What do you think?”

You think that talking to a chrome suit was no fun. You can’t see any expression or hear any emotion. You have no idea if you are talking to a man or a woman or even a droid of some kind. 

“Last thing I recall was being at home behind the computer while my aunt called for me.” That’s right. You remember her. You remember your room and your laptop and the many games you played on it and fanfiction you read. Gosh. You hope you switched the laptop off and deleted the browser history. Your aunt doesn’t need to see what you’ve read.

“Computer.” The Captain hadn’t moved an inch since entering the room. “You were taken from Hosnian Prime.” When you remained silent and just glared the Captain continued. “In the Hosnian system.”

Still you kept your mouth shut. Your lack of replies seemed to rile the Captain up for Phasma stepped closer to you and angrily grabbed you by the neck.

“Don’t fool me little girl. I know you’re faking it. You wish to make us believe you know nothing? You know damn well that you were there with part of the resistance rats. ”

The grip on your throat is tight, slightly pulling you up, and it feels like you’re choking. Unable to breathe properly, you clasp your hands over the Captain’s one hand on your throat and try to remove it. You need more oxygen.

“What am I faking?” You manage to grind out. “Let me go, you’re choking me.”

“And you deserve to die, you pitiful resistance scum!” But as Phasma scolds you the hand round your throat loosens and you feel yourself hit the slab. You hadn’t even noticed the Captain had lifted you in the air.

You cough, your throat still burning. “Why are you so mean?” It’s a silly and almost childish thing to say but it’s the first thing that springs to mind.

And perhaps it’s good it was this that you said, because the Captain seems confused and finally makes a retreat. You are grateful for the distance. It meant you would be able to breathe. While you gently touch your throat you glare at the Captain.

Phasma stands facing the door and all you can see is the backside of the black-looking suit. You wish the Captain would just go and leave you on your own again.

“You will give us what we want. Just wait till Kylo Ren gets back. He won’t be as gentle as me.”

The door opens and Phasma steps out. Gentle? You didn’t think Captain Phasma was gentle with you at all. Confused you wrap your arms around your bare legs and rest your chin on top of your knees. Something was definitely wrong here. How did you go from sitting behind your laptop at home to being a prisoner? How did you forget your own name?

Are you going to survive another day?


	2. 1

_Worry is for the weak._ The sentence sounds reassuring inside your mind as you’re led into another room. It's a good mantra you discovered this morning and you keep repeating it inside your head to calm your nerves. There’s a trooper at either side of you, their white suits as cold as anything else in this damn building –wherever you might be.

And you are worried. Very worried.

They have chained you and hold the shackles like reigns. It’s humiliating. But nothing could have prepared you for the sight of an old man in a chair. Only he wasn’t there. He was shimmering, like a computer animation you might see on a screen. But then more 3D, a better effect than you’d ever seen before.

“A Hologram.” He says and you raise your head. 

“Huh?” 

How did he know what you were thinking?

“I’m in your mind, little one.” Now that sparks your fury. You dislike being called ‘little’. True, you aren’t particularly tall – not if you look at the Stormtroopers who had escorted you here. But someone calling you little makes you feel like a child and you aren’t one any longer. You are – why can’t you remember? You know you’ve celebrated your seventeenth birthday…. But did one follow after that one?

“It is true then.” He seems to say the words to someone off the screen and you think you can hear Captain Phasma reluctantly agreeing. “She has forgotten. I can just see the small fragment of something in her mind. Something the resistance gave her.” The Hologram old man smirks, the smile unsettling and his narrow eyes piercing through you despite him being a projection. “Clever. By forgetting she isn’t at risk to give their secrets away. Well planned.”

“If she hasn’t got information with her then she’s no use for us.” It’s Phasma’s distorted voice. You recognize it and it angers you to hear the suggestion of being useless. What good was it if the people you came here with wiped your mind? How would it protect _you_? 

No, it was to protect themselves, you think. Without information you are of no use to these people who hold you captive. Your death suddenly seems very imminent.

“Very good, little one.” The old man seems to ignore the Captain and you peer at him with as much hate and bravery you can manage. You want to look as if you aren’t scared for your life.

“The Resistance are the people who brought you to Hosnian Prime. You were on a quest to undermine one of our projects. But then our troopers caught you and stopped you and your little friends.”

So you weren't on your own when they caught you, huh? That's new information and you greedily suck it up, wishing to know more about what had happened. Who had you been with and where were they?

The Hologram seemed to smirk. “There was an explosion and unfortunately your little friend got away, running off with that girl. My, it almost seemed as if he was very eager to leave you behind and save her skin instead.”

You could feel anger bubbling inside you, though perhaps not as much as there should have been. The thought that someone left you behind, knowing that this was to be your fate, was enough to upset you. Yet you fancied yourself to have a thick skin and quickly shook the anger aside. What did it matter that there was a boy who left you behind? It wasn't as if you knew him – not that you could remember him anyway.

“He must have had his reasons.” You grumble, hand clenching into a fist before relaxing again.

For a moment the Hologram in front of you is silent. “You have no recollection at all of how you got here, have you?”

You press your lips into a thin line and boldly shake your head. Didn't he see that you had enough of all these useless questions? If they want you dead then they'd better get it over with.

The old man looks aside again, presumably to Captain Phasma, and you hear a faint wheezing sound. Then Phasma's voice. “She's of no use, Supreme Leader Snoke.”

So this old man was their supreme leader, eh? Not very impressive if you were one to judge. Then again, if he really could read your mind that was quite something. You realise you should be careful what you think.

Perhaps his looks deceived? You raise a brow as you silently study his frame. An old man, a distorted and glowing image. Even if he was as weak as his old age would suggest then he would still be too powerful for you. He was top of the class, after all, a leader who only had to raise his thumb – in a down sign like Ceaser would have – and his followers would have your head.

The thought that someone who looks so old and frail could be so powerful amuses you.

“That is your interpretation, Captain.” Snoke said, you know his name now. “My interpretation is different.”

You can just feel the tension. Even the Stormtroopers by your side radiate curiosity. You turn slightly to look at them but they haven't moved an inch. When you glance back at the Hologram you see that Snoke is watching you with a smile that seems so gentle it makes him look creepy.

“Come closer, child.”

Again with the stupid nicknames. But you have no choice. A muttered protest is the only thing to escape your lips while the troopers push you forward, pressing their cold and hard metal hands against your shoulder so hard it's painful. The push makes you stumble a few steps and then you feel how they put pressure on your shoulder, forcing you down to your knees in front of the Hologram.

You wish you weren't wearing such a short dress. Did the skirt of it even hide your underpants?

“You worry about silly things.” The man croons, and you know your face hardens at his words as you look up at him. Would he stop exploring your mind for a minute?

“No, it is as I suspected.” Snoke closes his eyes and you notice that you're holding your breath. What's he doing?

A holographic hand hovers above your head. You feel some sort of static, some electricity tickling the back of your neck and making your hair stand slightly on end. A cold shiver runs down your spine.

You decide to give him your best representation of a girl not to be toyed with and grit your teeth, snarling at him with a growl. The look in your eyes must be that of a wild animal. Good, let him know you're not one to be beaten easily.

“What is this supposed to mean?” Your voice sounds surprisingly harsh.

The corner of the old man's lips twitch, but only at one side, giving him a crooked smile. Then he opens his eyes and simply states “you are a Force Sensitive.”

A force what?

You blink at him and out of sight you can hear Captain Phasma gasp. “You mean to say she's another potential Jedi, Supreme Leader?”

When Snoke doesn't answer the Captain but instead keeps looking at you, you can hear Phasma continue. “Or a potential Knight?”

The way the old man's eyes bore into you is unsettling. His gaze is so fierce it makes your stomach twist painfully, makes you feel sick enough to heave. But you don't relent. You stare back into his eyes just as hard.

“Perhaps one day.” Snoke then suddenly says, and the cold penetrating look is replaced by a warmer one. The feeling of your organs twisting and squeezing together inside of you fades and for that you are relieved. “But the signs are very weak. I doubt she could handle a lightsaber, let alone the force itself.”

What the heck is he talking about?

“We could run a few tests. Yet even if she fails she will not be completely useless for our goals.” He turned to the Captain off screen again. “Although I fear running tests might be a waste of our precious time.”

Great. Did the old man just decide whether you were of worth or not? All life was valuable. No one should decide whether a life can be taken away or not.

If Snoke hadn't been able to read your thoughts he might have noticed the thundercloud forming above your head at the anger you felt. It wasn't right that these people decided your fate, and it brought back vague memories of the many times you fought for justice.

“Good thinking, little one.” Snoke's voice cuts you out of your thoughts and you look up at him with a snap of the head. “Your life is worth for us to keep. Although being a traitor you have something very rarely found in the universe which can tip the scales in our favour.”

You can't do anything else but just look at the man. Not only because the troopers still have a hand on your shoulder, keeping you on your knees, but the shackles are keeping you firmly in place as well. You didn't like the way this Snoke talks to you, giving you the eerie feeling that you're going to be in a heap more trouble than you could have anticipated.

“Ah yes,” Snoke's voice sounds as a heavy breath while he leans forward and his holographic hand touches your chin, lifting your head gently while forcing you to keep your eyes locked with his. 

You bite your lip and stare back in determination. Out with it, you think, knowing that you are scared for whatever it is that's about to come.

“You are a Force Sensitive, although you have no idea what it means. The Force helps our knights to become powerful. They can handle special.... swords,” Snoke's voice falters slightly as he searches for words that he knows you will understand. Very considerate, you mentally snort.

“They can control others, they can endure pain, they can be perfect weapons.” The Supreme Leader continued, not bothered by your thoughts. “And you, my pretty little girl, are unlike anyone I've ever seen. You carry the glow of a Force Sensitive, yet it's not festered in you. You aren't like a born Force User, but you hold the qualities purely within your body. Instead of outward control the Force is lingering inside of your organs, inside of your being.” His eyes lit up. “What I'm saying is, you, little one, could give birth to an army.”

Uh? No?

With a fierce pull you jerk your head out of his holographic grip and you start to thrash in your bounds. This could not be happening. This isn't what you think, is it?

“You want to what?” You cry out, giving the Stormtroopers quite a battle. Where you got the strength from – adrenaline and fright probably – you're not sure, but you manage to almost get off your knees until the two troopers roughly push you down again. Your hair pricks into your eyes as they force you to double over, your head close to the ground and your knees pricking into your stomach. They have your arms forced behind your back and your shoulder pressed firmly to the cold floor below.

“Don't be so shocked, little one.” You can hear Snoke's voice, sounding a little too pleased with himself, and try to look up at him but in the position you're in you can't raise your head enough to actually see him. 

The bastard.

The sound of a suppressed chuckle, probably from him. “You have Force Sensitive reproduction organs and what kind of a leader would I be if I ignored the opportunity to breed more Dark Knights to serve the empire?”

“You're inhumane!” Really? Was that the best insult you could think of? With renewed vigour you try and struggle again, but it looks like you're wiggling against the floor. 

“Consider it to be an honour to be the mother of the new Force generation of our empire.”

You could kill that man now. There was no doubt Snoke could hear your thoughts but damn him. You didn't live your life this long to be reduced to breeding stock! You know you have so much more potential – brains and muscles and skills – this is just humiliating.

“I'm not going to be a mother any time soon, bastard!” You shout as the Stormtroopers haul you off your knees and force you to stand up straight. You feel like scolding the Supreme Leader some more but then suddenly it feels as if a hand is locked round your throat and squeezes all the air out of you. You find it isn't within your power to speak.

“No, it will take you approximately nine months.” Snoke grins maliciously at you as he teasingly says this. Unable to retort, all you can do is fume in silence and vouch revenge in your mind. Snoke turns to Phasma, at least you assume so, and raises his hand. 

“Send a message to the resistance. Tell them we have their lovely little girl captive and that they've done us a great favour.”

With these words the transmission has ended and the image of Snoke fades in less than two seconds. You blink, tears welling in your eyes, while the troopers push against you, turning you around roughly. You follow their lead, down the cold corridors and back to that horrid cell they'd given you.

If the resistance, whoever they were, received Snoke's message... would they think you're a traitor? Would they think you passed on valuable information – which you didn't have because you couldn't recall a thing from the past who-knows-how-many months.

Back in your cell you watch one of the troopers fasten your chain back to the wall. They leave you on your own and with a sigh of relief you try and make yourself comfortable on the slab.

There's no doubt that you will have to escape before any of these men could get their dirty hands on you.

“If I'm gonna die, I'd better die a virgin.” You tell yourself proudly, the thought giving you courage. At the same time you feel desperation wash over you. Your little pep-talk feels incomplete – as if you wanted to say your own name there but somehow you've still forgotten what that is.

Curling on the slab, your head buried in your arms and eyes squeezed shut, you think of all the things you still do remember. Perhaps you'll find a clue on how to get out.


	3. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AU: Updates were supposed to be sooner but due to the extra days I've been working and the slow recovery I'm making from having 2 RSI arms, this came out much later. 
> 
> Also, I have received manry requests to make this tale dark. Keep sending your ideas. The next part will be fairly general and innocent. After that I plan to change the rating and take things up a notch.

The walls appear to be of some kind of metal coated with a layer of white paint. You can be mistaken but who can blame you for not being able to study them from up close? The chains attached to the shackles round your wrists don’t allow you much movement as you’re strapped to the slab like before, unable to move into more than a very itching sitting position. It irritates you.

The sound of the door swooshing open is a welcome change from the many endless minutes you’ve been counting while staring at the white and you turn your head to see who came in. A man dressed in black, and you suppose it’s one of the men the Supreme Leader had been speaking of, a knight come to do who knows what to you. You rather not think about what could happen next.

Your back curls achingly against the cold metal of the slab and your hands turn momentarily into fists, but other than that you’ve decided not to give much of a reaction. You’re determined not to go along with whatever evil plans they have in store for you and despite the bleakness of the situation you’re in, you still have this little nagging voice inside your head telling you that you could be saved soon.

By whom? You’re not sure. But whatever is wrong with having a little hope?

The man tugs at his black glove. His breath is steady but heavy, you can hear it from your position across the room. Then finally he takes a step towards you and something in his eyes shifts.

His eyes, you notice, are of a strangely light colour and you can’t determine whether it’s actually green or blue or- His cough distracts you and you follow the movement of his hand as he lowers it from his lips to his waist, then traces it up to take off his hat. Light-coloured hair is revealed underneath it and you quickly look away.

You’re not going to be tempted.

“So you are ‘the girl’.” He says it mockingly and you snap your head back at him but bite your lip to refrain from saying something that could potentially get you killed. “Interesting choice of clothes to wear.”

You try to glance down your white dress, feeling the skirt ride up as you move your legs awkwardly, and you freeze. No need for him to see any more, not in this current situation.

Why couldn’t the Supreme Leader have decided that you’re worth nothing and let you go? Or just have killed you and have it all over with? Being dead seemed more attractive than this fate.

“Not going to speak?” He says and suddenly it becomes too hard to keep silent.

“I noticed how you all seem to adore dark colours around here.”

He sounds genuinely surprised at your retort and even raises a brow along with his words. “So she can talk. How interesting. Now tell me, how is a Jedi-girl, a mere padawan, so easily detained?”

You blink at him. A what? But his harsh expression betrays he isn’t going to expand on his words and you’re left guessing what he could be talking about. You seemed to have forgotten everything relevant up to this point.

Angrily you scowl at him. “All these big men on one little girl,” it wasn’t wrong when  _you_ used the word little though – “doesn’t sound like a fair match to me.”

Finally something in the expressionless face of the man gave way and a small smile cracked, the corners of his lips twitching the tiniest bit, revealing his amusement.

“So you admit you’re a weak Jedi.”

“I admit I’m strong enough to kick your arse.” You growl, not wanting to show how little you understood of what he was saying, and not prepared to have him win this battle either.

“Can you read my mind, girl?” He asks, a strange question if you hadn’t met their leader hours ago.

“Yes.” You say. A bold and daring lie.

For a moment he stares sternly at you, and you try to hold his gaze, pretending that you can see into his mind. Then he cracks his neck and rubs his hand past his shoulder. “I thought so. You hold no skills.”

“Hey!” Your voice is loud, not quite as you intended for it to be.

The man’s hand is on your chin within an instant, his fingertips digging hard into your skin as he forces your face to his direction while at the same time effectively disabling you to form words properly. All you can do is snarl at him when he’s suddenly so close.

“Don’t show disrespect to me or to any of the officers. In fact, don’t show disrespect to any of the crew on this ship at all or your life will become increasingly unpleasant.” His voice is husky yet strong. You can hear he’s used to demand and give orders, he’s used to have this much power over people.

“You might be allowed to stay on this ship but you’re not a guest.”

You flinch, it’s a natural reaction to him leaning into you. You feel his hot breath roll over your cheek as he brings his lips close, yet not close enough to actually touch. But you can feel the heat radiating from his lips and you notice how your own turn dry.

A feeling of panic creeps up inside of you.

Like this, trapped not only by the chains but also by his body, you stand no chance on defending yourself from him. If this man is going to touch you – you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to block out his presence and half expecting him to laugh about how pathetic your reaction must be. But there is no laugh. There is no other reaction that you notice. And after a while he withdraws.

When you carefully open your eyes again he has let go of your face and he’s standing near the door, back at the other side of the room, hat returned to his head. His breathing is ragged and the look in his eyes wild, agitated. Annoyed, perhaps. When he notices you’re watching him his eyes turn cold again, as if a mask slides over his face.

“Perhaps one day, when Kylo Ren’s done with you….” It’s a murmur coming from his lips, something he’s overthinking and not necessarily said to you.

With a push of his hand against the panel the door slides open and the man steps out.

You realize he never introduced himself to you.

Half-shaken from the rather absurd meeting you just had – Jedi? Padawan? Kylo Ren? – and what the look in the man’s eyes could mean – anger? lust?- you turn your head away from the door to go back to staring at the walls.

You idly think of how you could use a blanket. The cold is creeping past your skin, goose bumps covering you from head to toe now. You understood why everyone you’d met so far was either dressed heavily in armour or wearing many layers of dark and thick material. A white flimsy little dress would do nothing for you.

As you squeeze your eyes shut and try to remember your home you feel a vibration and notice a change in the atmosphere. There’s a faint sound of footsteps in the hallway, as if people are running. Then all of a sudden the room trembles and quakes, clearly the result of an impact.

You open your eyes and gasp, certain of one thing: your saviour has come.

Joy rushes through you as you try to calm yourself and keep flat on the slab. Whoever they are, you just knew you weren’t on your own in this.

Another big bang and shouts, more audible now, echoing outside of your cell. The lights flicker and you silently hope with a smile that the energy sources have been hit. Another blast and the lights die, only to be resurrected after nearly a minute of darkness and silence.

The shouting outside continues. You hear a crescendo of zapping noises. Then more voices while you try to listen more closely as you try to really hear what is going on.

After the hit that had temporarily disabled the lights, no more seem to follow. You wait for the low rumbling sound, for the shaking of the slab, for the flickering of the lights, but none of that occurs again.

Instead the room is still and stable, the lights shine a constant and pleasantly steady light and no rumbling reaches your ears. Only the sounds of footsteps and shouts in the hallway can be heard and you try to decipher what is being said, but the door muffles all sounds to nonsensical noises.

You wait and wait. But the voices die down. Perhaps the troopers in the hall had been called away? Gradually the sounds dwindle into silence and all that’s left again is to wait; wait and hope your rescuer will appear in that doorway next.

As if your will alone will be enough to make it real, you keep your eyes on the entrance to your cell, burning a hole into the door if you could. If you believe someone will come, someone will come. You’re convinced of it.

Someone is going to get you out of here. Someone you have forgotten.

Any moment now.

Nothing yet. And now? A sigh of disappointment escapes your lips.

The door remains closed.

How long are you staring now? How can your own mind fool you like this? After what feels like forever you turn your gaze away and blow out a harsh breath.

Then suddenly the swooshing sound of the door can be heard and you turn your head back, wildly. A cold fear rips through your body at the sight of a tall shadow of a man standing in the doorway. Dressed from top to toe in black and face covered by a mask, the man – or robot?... you are not sure- studies you. He’s immense, larger than anyone you’d expected and most definitely not the hero you’re rooting for. Judging by his clothes alone he must be part of wherever it is you’re stuck now.  _One of Snoke’s spawn_ , you think.

A shiver runs down your spine and involuntarily you try to shield yourself from his gaze. Trying to tug your arms lower and pulling your knees up as far as your shackles allowed, you tried to curl into a tiny ball on the slab. You’re not sure why, but there’s something this man radiates, some dark power, something bad. It makes you want to cower and hide in fear, but there’s nowhere to go.

A groan can be heard and it takes you a moment to recognize it was yours.

Then without a warning, the man is stepping forward, closer to you, much too close after the previous surprise visit. You flinch but decide to face this challenge and when you look up at the mask you gather all your courage to scowl at him.

The mask stares back at you, or you think it does, but you do not yield. You bite your jaw, forcing yourself to hold the gaze of this mask for as long as you can.

And then suddenly the man has turned and without saying a word he leaves you in your cell.

So much for being rescued. With a growl you slump back on the slab, suddenly exhausted by the day’s events. You close your eyes and massage your temples, letting out a shaky breath.


End file.
